LOUISE PLACHTA: Obeying my instincts

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Do you ever get a feeling that you just have to call a friend or brother, sister, or someone that you haven’t talked with in a long time? I don’t think I have extrasensory perception, but every so often, my conscience nags at me until I either capitulate and call, or dismiss the feeling and later regret later that I had not acted on it. Two recent incidents come to mind.

I had not talked with Frances for 40-plus years – ever since she and her husband taught our younger daughter to drive a two-wheel bicycle. Laura had spent a week with our friends while the rest of our family travelled to a conference in New Orleans.

We have exchanged Christmas letters, birthday and anniversary cards and, now and then, quick notes. This past holiday season, for whatever reason, I didn’t send my annual Christmas/Thanksgiving/New Year/Valentine letter to family and friends. (To clarify:The letter is titled for whenever I finally get around to mailing it.) But I did send a few Valentine cards – to let people know that I was still alive and kicking.

In late February, as I addressed an anniversary card to my friends in Warren, I had a feeling that I should wait to seal the envelope until I was ready to send it. Sometime in March, a note came from Frances. She thanked me for the Valentine greeting and added a postscript: “Didn’t I write you at Christmas that Stanley had died last August?” Much to my dismay, I had overlooked her note in the Christmas card.

I did not send the anniversary wishes, but did send Frances a note of condolence and promised that I would call her sometime during the week after Easter.

On another occasion, I had been thinking about someone whom I had not seen for almost two years, someone I had known at the university. Three days of sunshine and the general excitement of Easter preparations were the nudge I needed to contact Adelyn,I was a bit apprehensive about calling because Addy is a shy, unassuming lady somewhere in her later 70s and, like many of us, not too anxious to have visitors at a moment’s notice.

I had a cheerful yellow daffodil that I thought would brighten her small apartment.

As expected, Addy made excuses in an effort to dissuade my visit. However, I wouldn’t take “No” for an answer and offered that I would stay for just a minute, and then quickly said my goodbye.

My dear friend answered the door within seconds of my ringing the doorbell. I handed her the plant, which she admired and set on the kitchen table. I wished her a Happy Easter and turned to leave (after all, I was going to stay for just a minute) but she invited me to stay a while.

An hour and a half passed while we discussed everything from Buyers’ Guides thrown on lawns instead of porches, the Pope’s election, the high costs of television use, technology’s pros and cons, and babushkas. We also wondered about colleagues that we had not seen for years.

I didn’t want to wear out my welcome so I rose and headed for the door. We hugged and promised to keep in better touch with each another.

On the drive home, I gloried in the sunlight and the warmth of a Michigan spring day; and I thanked whatever power it was that had made me call and subsequently visit with Addy.

She had made a good day for me. I hope I had made one for her as well.

Louise Plachta is a Morning Sun columnist and can be reached at lplachta@michigannewspapers.com.